


Striketober 2020

by SilverCowGirl



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:42:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverCowGirl/pseuds/SilverCowGirl
Summary: This is my first attempt at anything like Striketober and I'm finding it great fun!!!  These bits are not in any particular order or story line, although some of them lead from one to another.  I'm playing catch up here, too.
Relationships: Aunt Joan/Uncle Ted (Cormoran Strike), Charlotte Campbell Ross/Cormoran Strike, Matthew Cunliffe/Robin Ellacott, Robin Ellacott & Cormoran Strike, Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37
Collections: Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020





	1. "Is that even possible?

**Author's Note:**

> Several of these have to do with Robin's first trip to Cornwall, but not all of them fit that story. They're all over the place, actually. Trying to catch up, so my mind is just rolling along!!!

_I can’t believe my eyes_ , thought Strike as he gazed raptly at Bobbi Cunliffe. He never would have recognized Robin on the street. And he’d been trained by the best in surveillance.

_Is that even possible?_ he wondered as she shot back an answer to every question he asked. _She’s done an absolutely brilliant job at developing incredible detail of her character._

He found her look, her accent, her entire vibe, incredibly sexy. What a turn on her disguises would be in bed.

_Don’t even think about it_ , he admonished himself sternly.


	2. "Want some company?"

“I’m going to have to make a trip this weekend, back to Cornwall, to check up on Ted. Luce says he’s not getting on well.”

“I know that’s a long trip for you, whether by car or otherwise. Want some company?” Robin asked nonchalantly. 

_Should I blur that line? Drop that barrier? She’s my best mate, but…_

“Of course, if you’d rather have some time alone with him, I’d totally understand,” added Robin, avoiding eye contact. 

Strike, feeling like he was stepping off a cliff, “Sure, that’d be great,” felt an incredible sense of floating.

Robin flashed a brilliant smile.


	3. "It sounded better in my head."

“Have you made it up with Lucy, then?” Robin asked as they were getting underway to Cornwall. “You know, for calling her kids arsehole and prick?” 

“Ah, I tried apologizing, but it didn’t work out so great.” 

“She just can’t let it go, huh?” risked Robin, with a glance his way as she pulled out into the traffic. 

“Well, I told her that most kids that age seem to be either arseholes or pricks, but she wasn’t havin’ it. Bollocks, I guess it sounded better in m’ head.” 

Robin was thinking, _A mum just couldn’t see her child that way._


	4. "Where does it hurt?"

Strike was castigating himself unmercifully after Robin tripped on a bit of the sidewalk. He’d done better to have hold of her so she wouldn’t have fallen. _If only I’d acted on my first thought to tuck her hand into the crook of my elbow, we wouldn’t be in this predicament._

Trying to be helpful, he had asked, “Where does it hurt?”

Robin’s face and neck flushed a bright red as she couldn’t meet his eyes. She finally mumbled, “Booger! It’s m’ left breast again!” 

Strike didn’t embarrass easily, but at these words, his face turned a bright red, too. 


	5. "Don't move."

“Don’t move,” Strike instructed solicitously. 

“That’s not going to be a help, Strike!” as Robin quickly turned away from him and surreptitiously massaged her breast. 

_What’s a fella supposed t’ do in a situation like this?_ Strike quickly searched his brain for some solution.

“How about going to that pub up ahead?”

“Is that bribery?” asked Robin with asperity.

“No, it’s incentive,” he shot back with a face that he could keep straight just for a couple heart beats, before they both broke into laughter.

_This is why we are best mates,_ they both thought at exactly the same time.


	6. "Is it working?"

Strike and Robin sat in the pub, which reminded them both of the Tottenham, their local in London. It was warm inside on this chilly October day and they had both enjoyed few, Strike his favorite Doom Bar and Robin some white wine. 

The conversation had slowed, but they both felt a languid sense of comfort with the other and the growing silence. 

Strike then recalled Robin’s injury, asking, “Is it working?”

Robin, coloring again, wished he’d let the subject drop. “It is, but I guess we can hardly advertise this as a remedy,” thinking unavoidably of a red breast. 


	7. "Is something bothering you?"

As they proceeded toward Cornwall, the silence stretched between them longer than usual.

At last Strike asked, “Is something bothering you?” 

“Well, I have to wonder about meeting your uncle after all this time. I’ve heard so much about him, I’m a little nervous, I have to admit.”

Strike didn’t want to tell her, _He thinks you’re the one for me._

Instead, he blurted, “You couldn’t possibly do a worse job of showing him who you are than Charlotte did the one time I brought her to Cornwall!” 

Robin positively beamed on the inside, while carefully hiding a relieved smile.


	8. "I'm scared."

_I’m scared she won’t want me,_ thought Strike.

_I’m scared to show him how I feel,_ Robin worried.

_I’m scared nothing will be the same again if I take the first step,_ they both thought at the same time.

_I’m scared working together will be awkward and we can’t get past it,_ they continued on the same wavelength.

_Ah, bollocks! There’s no sane reason to miss this chance,_ he told himself.

_Ah, booger! It’s worth the risk. I trust him with m' life,_ Robin admitted. 

They turned to gaze at each other, only inches apart. It was now or never.


	9. "I have to do this."

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Strike was livid.

“I have to do this. I have to call, tell him one last time I don’t want to work on our marriage anymore.”

Matthew called last night and asked if she would go away with him for a weekend to work out their differences. _I have to tell him no._

“What an arsehole he is! That twat couldn’t recognize a prize when he had you,” he continued angrily. _Surely, she couldn’t be considering it,_ the thought nearly taking his breath away. _I’ve waited so long for her to be free for us._


	10. "Give me five minutes."

Strike arrived at Robin’s flat in his BMW, excited to be getting away to Cornwall with her. _I always enjoy our trips, and it’s not just because of the digestibles!_

“Give me five minutes,” panted Robin as she opened the door. I’ve just taken Wolfson out for a pee and I have yet to change clothes.

_Don’t think about it,_ Strike was drawing the line at his imaginings of Robin in the room next to him, changing clothes.

She rushed out of her bedroom, a peacock blue sundress caressing her curves. He thought, _How can I not think about her._


	11. "Is everything okay?"

Robin could smell the sea air as they neared St. Mawes. Excited to be getting close, but she was worried that Strike had grown quiet. _Is he wishing he’d not brought me? Worried about introducing me to Ted?_

In the seat beside her, Strike was remembering the day his family had gone out in the boat to spread Joan’s ashes. Again, he thought, _Joanie was so right in having us do it that way. I feel like I’m coming home to her every time I’m at the sea._

_Giving Robin a long look, he said, “Joanie would have loved you.”_


	12. "Don't flatter yourself."

This was going to be the last phone call Robin took from Matthew, if she had to change her number to keep him from calling her. 

“I’ve told you, again and again, I don’t want to work on our marriage. It’s over. Long over. And it’s time you realized that.”

“Robs, you can’t really mean that,” wheedled Matthew.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she gritted out, “It’s time you accepted facts. “Strike and I are in Cornwall and I don’t want to hear from you again. I’m moving on now, and of course you moved on long ago. I’m changing my number.” 


	13. "Who told you that?"

Strike was inordinately pleased to introduce his local, the Victory, to Robin, although he felt a bit of trepidation at leaving her alone with Polworth for the few minutes he left them for the loo. 

“So, tell me,” Robin teased, “Were Ted and Joan betting on us, d’ya think?”

“What do y’ mean?” he pretended ignorance. “Fuck, who told you that?”

“Polworth figures they were getting ready to take bets on us,” she enjoined with a grin, looking at him from under her eyelashes. 

Ah, well, I’m beginnin' to think I’d bet on us…”Wonderin’ which way you would bet, Ellacott.”


	14. Don't come in

“Eeeekkkk! Don’t come in! squealed Robin.

“Bloody Hell, why not?” roared Strike.

“Don’t come in!” she repeated.

“Fuck’s sake, why not?” he roared again.

“I don’t want you to see,” she finally admitted.

“See what?” more calmly, _At least she doesn’t sound in danger._

“Bit of a surprise, it being your birthday and all,” she sighed, reflecting, _Booger it all! Bit hard to surprise a detective._

His eyes stayed glued to the door a few moments later as it slowly creaked open. Robin emerged, looking sheepish. “What do you think?”

His dark eyes swept down, then up again, “It’s good.”


	15. What's in it for me?

Strike stretched around, grabbing the kit bag on the backseat of the Land Rover. “What’s in it for me?” he eyed Robin hopefully. _This is just one of the bloody best things about Robin,_ crossed his mind, before he hurriedly squelched the thought.

“Bit of that Cornish chocolate and plenty of biscuits,” Robin flashed him a look, holding back laughter. Eyes on the road, she heard the sound of celo before Strike murmured, “Open for a taste of your favorite.” 

Strike suddenly felt wind knocked out of him. _Was it my imagination, that wee bit of tongue licked my finger?_


	16. What are you smiling about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten the prompts out of order and can't sort out all the editing it might take to get them right, so I'll just stick this one in here to get back on track.

“What are you smiling about?” Robin asked as she moved into the garden at Ted’s house, where Strike was having a morning smoke. 

“Just thinking that Ted likes you.” _He likes you a lot,_ thought Strike _,_ recalling how Ted told him last night that, “Joanie would be beside herself to meet Robin.” 

Robin and Strike had regaled his Uncle Ted with stories of their detection agency, with Robin being the primary force driving the subject. The scar on her forearm was the instigation of the topic, but Strike thoroughly enjoyed the conversation, one he’d never before broached with his uncle.


End file.
